Respite
by whowhatsitwhich
Summary: Oh, I think you can keep her. There are plenty of others to go around so take this one with my compliments, my friend. Enjoy her. You've earned it." Blue eyes, the same shade as the forget-me-nots that bloomed by the porch in her former life, burned into her.
1. Chapter 1

She was shaking like a leaf the first time they came for her. These men, with their blank faces and hollow eyes, reminded her too much of her dead and unmourned husband. These two weren't the ones that killed the men of her group, including Ed. Those monsters laughed as they filled the air with bullets, uncaring who they slaughtered and deaf to the cries for mercy. These two were quiet and gentle as they lifted her to her feet and led her and another toward the door and out into a misty early morning.

Carol shied back as the pale light stabbed at her eyes like dull needles. It had been days since she'd been locked in that cellar. The air was dank and thick; the only light what filtered in around the rough boards of the door. She squeezed them shut and kept them that way, letting the feather light touches on her arms guide her steps. She winced as Lily's muffled sobs climbed the scale to throat rending moans. The woman hadn't quit crying since they'd been taken. Carol did what she could to offer comfort but the woman was inconsolable. Her Meghan had been lost in the battle. The girl was only nine years old but that meant little to the bullet that took her life.

Carol offered up a silent prayer for both mother and daughter. She'd always wanted a child but Ed didn't. He was unfailing in his assurance that she would be as bad of a mother as she was a wife. He used his fists as much as his words to drive the point home. It was better, she decided long ago, that she'd never gotten pregnant. No child could grow up happily around Ed Peletier.

They were led into a large room and made to stand in a cleared space before a stage of sorts. The only seat was a broad, carved wooden chair sitting front and center. The back, etched with whorls and intricately incised squares, rose to a peak. The seat was blood-red, buttery soft and pliable, and looked to be made of worked leather. Her fingers twitched in an errant wish to run her fingers over the chair, test the grain of the wood, see if the leather was as soft as the dull sheen promised. Carol clenched her fists at her side and bit down on the inside of her cheek until her mouth filled with coppery warmth._ Stop it,_ she berated herself fiercely,_ or your foolishness is going to get you killed._

She saw a lanky, dark-haired man mount the dais confidently and make his way to the throne like seat. He watched the two women with vague interest, his pale eyes missing nothing as he looked them over. "Welcome to Respite," he drawled in slow, languid tones. "I'm Phillip Blake, the leader of this settlement. I wanted to meet you and familiarize you with our rules so that there's no misunderstanding."

He rose to his feet and strolled toward them like he had all the time in the world. Lily received a dismissive glance, the man's thin lips tightening as she hunched her shoulders and started crying again in earnest. He paused in front of Carol, eyes narrowing at her steady look. One hand lifted to touch her cheek and she forced herself not to flinch. A low laugh escaped him and he never took his eyes away from hers as his fingers deftly unbuttoned her blouse and let it fall open. Only when the last one let go did he look down at the acres of creamy flesh now on view. "Everybody has a job to do here that depends largely on what they have to offer," he announced as he unhooked her bra and coldly contemplated her breasts. "For this place to work, it is necessary for that rule to be obeyed implicitly. Do you understand?"

Carol's mouth was suddenly as dry as a desert but she forced the words out. "I understand."

Phillip Blake's lips quirked into a humorless smile. "Do you? Do you really? I could put you anywhere. What, do you think, would be the best place for you, blue eyes?"

"I don't know," Carol offered hesitantly. "The kitchens or maybe the laundry. I took courses to try to be a nurse. I could help with that."

Again, he gave her that pitiless smile. "I could help with that," he repeated softly. "You're a little mouse, a brave one, but a mouse nevertheless. I believe we can come up with something better than kitchen or laundry duty. Something special just for you." His eyes wandered over her shoulder and he gestured imperiously. "Dixon, come up here."

Carol bit back the urge to vomit as the heavy tread of booted feet came to a stop behind her. She didn't dare look around; instead she kept her eyes fixed firmly on Blake's smug expression. "You need somethin?" A rough voice demanded in a furious tone. "I was going out on a hunt before it gets too late."

Blake's face didn't alter. He waved the man's ire aside as if it were nothing. "That can wait. I need you here for the planning session for our next run. I also wanted to commend you for your actions during the last one. Merle tells me that you're responsible for the success at Kenneshac Memorial. Those medical supplies alone are worth their weight in gold. It warrants some considerations for you." Blake made another of those lofty gestures and was handed a gleaming crossbow complete with a full quiver of bolts and a Buck knife in a worked leather sheath. At last, Blake turned to Carol, his smirk widening to a grin. "For a job well done."

The as yet unseen man sounded like he was choking from the noises that suddenly erupted from behind her. He swallowed a few times, cleared his throat and then began again. "Mine to keep or mine for the night?" Carol caught a glimpse of bare arms, shaggy hair and a lean physique as the man called Dixon stepped forward to take the weapons. A shaft of fear arced through her when she realized he was really asking. Her startled look swung back to Phillip Blake, who now openly wore his amusement.

"Oh, I think you can keep her. There are plenty of others to go around so take this one with my compliments, my friend. Enjoy her. You've earned it."

The sob built, gathered steam and threatened to tear her throat assunder but Carol forced it back. She wouldn't cry now. She wouldn't give the bastard the satisfaction. Later but not now. Blue eyes, the same shade as the forget-me-nots that bloomed by the porch in her former life, burned into her. He shouldered the crossbow and tucked the knife into his belt before rough fingers ever so gently cupped her elbow. "Let's go," he grumbled curtly. He gave one brief nod to Blake before leading her away. Only when they were outside did he look at her again and then he swore foully under his breath. "Fuck, cover up before you start a damned riot. I don't wanna have to fight because one of these fuckers thinks you're open for business."

Her fingers fumbled with her bra and buttons as she hastily did up her shirt. "Thank you," she whispered brokenly, her limbs threatening to dump her into the dirt at his feet as the true extent of her situation became clear. She was his. Handed over like some sort of bauble for a job well done. His…and there wasn't a thing she could do about it. He swore again and then took off at a fast walk toward the barracks.

"Where are we going?" Carol had to hurry to catch up, only to rock back on her heels as he came to an abrupt halt and swung around to look at her.

"Taking you back for now," he grated. "Back to where you was before. I gotta go hunt or there won't be any fresh meat for dinner. That asshole can say good job but one slip and he'll take it all back. I ain't in the mood to have my ass kicked or to see you staked out for anybody that wanders by to take a turn. He'll do it just because he can if I fuck up. God dammit! Should have lit out and never come back like I wanted to but I listened to Merle. Can't change it now. Done is done."

Carol froze, her eyes wide and staring as his words sank in. "You're going to leave me here? What if he changes his mind before you come back?" She blanched at the thought, nausea slamming into her like a clenched fist. She clamped her hand over her mouth and bent double, gagging helplessly.

The man made no attempt to help, watching impatiently until she straightened and wiped her mouth on the tail of her shirt. "I'll put the word out that you ain't to be bothered. Merle will back me or I'll put a bolt in his ass. Hell, he'll do it just to piss the rest of these assholes off." He stomped off, the crossbow swaying against his broad back, and didn't look back to see if she was following.

She waited a few beats before trailing after him, torn between the urge to flee and the urge to sit down in the dirt and weep. Instead, she attached herself to his heels and followed him back to the cellar. He jerked the door open and motioned for her to go inside. As she slipped past him, she glanced up and her gaze caught on those unfathomable blue eyes. "What's your name?" She mumbled, stopping just long enough to see if he would answer.

"Daryl," he finally returned after staring at her for an interminable moment. "Daryl Dixon. Remember what I said. You keep low and stay quiet. I'll come for you as soon as I get back."

"I will," she promised because that was the only thing she could do, the only choice she had left if she wanted to survive. He gave her another little nod before easing the door shut behind her.


	2. Chapter 2

His steps were soundless on the carpet of dead leaves as he ghosted through the woods in search of game. Even though his bow was held at the ready, his mind was anywhere but on his hunting. The woman. That damnable woman the governor saddled him with for no other reason than to keep him under his thumb.

Daryl stopped and lined up a shot on a squirrel scampering down a nearby tree trunk. The bolt flew wide, adding to his aggravation and the length of time he would have to spend out here. "Fuck," he muttered as he watched the animal freeze and then disappear into the undergrowth. Mumbling imprecations under his breath, he followed it so that he could retrieve his arrow.

How the hell was he supposed to keep his hide intact, much less keep the woman in one piece? Merle wouldn't be of any help. That fucker liked to talk a big game but he was never there when Daryl needed him. He spotted lime green feathers sticking out of a bedraggled bush and scooped it up. A sudden bark of laughter pulled his head around, further darkening his mood when he caught a glimpse of Joe and his boys. Lou and Len smirked as they squared off, leaving Daryl with his back to a tree and his bow empty.

"Well, well, well. If it ain't little Dixon," Joe drawled as he lazily crossed his arms and shared an amused glance with the others. "Thought you were supposed to be planning the next run, boy, instead of running around out here. The Governor ain't gonna be happy that you disobeyed orders. Tell you what though. You hand over that crossbow and I'll forget that we saw you."

"Ain't handing over nothing," Daryl bit out. "Governor knows already so you ain't got shit to tell. The run's been handled. You boys are going so best see Martinez about where we're headed."

The three of them looked thunderous but Joe managed a smirk. "Heard you got a nice little piece out of the last batch we brought in, Dixon. Make sure you keep it in line or somebody might have to pay her a visit. That would be a real shame, wouldn't it?"

His knuckles whitened as his grip tightened on his bow. He managed to bite his tongue, steely eyes clashing with Len's as the three headed back toward Respite. They couldn't touch him, not right now but if he slipped, it wouldn't be him they went for. It would be her. Dammit but he hoped Merle had gotten her out of the pen like he was supposed to. With renewed determination, Daryl veered off the trail he'd been following. He needed to find meat and get his ass back to camp. He needed to make sure that she was all right. He needed to make sure his brother had come through for once.

The room was small and neat and claustrophobic with the big man hovering in the door. He'd come for her just as the light faded to pale gold outside, boldly looking her up and down as she made her way toward him.

"Look at you, darlin," he rumbled. "Ain't as big as a minute, little mouse. Betcha my baby brother almost busted a nut when he saw you." Carol didn't quite know how to respond so she said nothing and gave him a thin-lipped smile instead. "Yep, Darylina won't have a fucking clue what to do with you."

"What do you mean?" Carol asked in a curious whisper. The man's presence confused her. "Daryl said he'd come back for me. Where is he?"

Merle Dixon sized her up again and let out a snort of laughter. "Let's just say you ain't the typical handout the governor usually gives, sweetheart. Daryl, he likes to keep things simple and with you, things are anything but. That's gonna make the boy nervous. He don't do too well with nerves, my little brother."

A previously undiscovered spark of defiance made her tilt her chin and meet his pale gaze head on. "I didn't ask for this either and I've already told him that I won't be the reason he stays here. If he wants to go, then he should go. I can look out for myself."

His fingers banded around her wrist in a grip that was almost painful. She could feel the flesh bruising but made no effort to move away. "You listen to me," he hissed under his breath. "Daryl is the only family I've got left in the world, my only flesh and blood. He's always been the sweet one but if he's backed into a corner, he'll fight. It's the Dixon in him." His face twisted with some emotion but all too soon, the mask was back in place. "I do what I can to keep these assholes off him but the Governor's changed the game. But we've got to play the hand we're dealt, don't we?"

"I don't understand."

Merle shot her a disgusted look before cupping her elbow and pulling her along with him as he headed for a low slung building across the camp. "You don't know much, do you, mouse?" He opened the fourth door on the left and motioned her inside. "Did he tell you that he's been wanting to leave but I put it off?" Merle took note of her wince and nodded. "He's been trying to get out but it ain't the right time. The fool can't let it go. He hopes, Daryl does, and it'll get him killed." He made a feeble gesture in her direction. "I ain't gonna let that happen, gal. The Governor thinks he's got a noose around my brother's neck with you but he's underestimated what I'll do to protect my brother."

"You could let me go," Carol offered hesitantly. "Get me outside the walls and send me on my way. Then I can't be used against him."

His laughter was deep and rich, pulling an unwilling smile from her as he wiped his eyes with the back of one rough hand. "Hell and fire but you're a feisty thing. Don't look like you'd say boo to a fucking goose but that ain't right. You think you could make it five minutes out there on your own? The biters would have you before dark."

Carol straightened to her full height, the unforeseen iron in her stance taking the big redneck by surprise. "My daddy taught me to shoot. I used to hunt with him when I was a girl. I can protect myself if I need to. Get me a gun or a knife if that would be easier. I'll take off and you won't have to worry about me being used against your brother."

"What kind of guns did your daddy get you, little gal? Remember that pop guns don't count."

Her glare made him chuckle again but she shoved her annoyance aside in order to answer. "Not that it matters but I've used a Marlin 30/30 and a Mossberg 20 gauge. I'm a decent shot with pistols too. It's been a while since I've done any shooting though."

Again, she'd managed to surprise him. Merle rubbed his chin thoughtfully as he studied her. "Daryl should be back before dark. You stay here and keep the door locked. Don't say nothing to Daryl just yet. I need to work some things out. We'll talk."

Carol watched him go and clicked the lock behind him. Then she sat down on the edge of the messy bed and covered her eyes. She found it difficult to believe in God anymore but still whispered a prayer. Daryl Dixon wasn't the only one who tried to hold on to hope.


	3. Chapter 3

Daryl made it back just as the sun tipped over the horizon, leaving behind long, thin shadows and purple tipped clouds. He carried a brace of squirrels over his shoulder and three rabbits by their back legs. Stopping at the dining hall to drop off the meat, he saw Phillip Blake watching him with a barely there smirk and a knowing look. It took every ounce of self restraint Daryl could muster to keep from putting a bolt in the fucker's ass.

Turning on his heel, he headed for the barracks to check on the woman. If Merle had kept his word, and who knew if he had, then Carol was waiting in his room. There wasn't much in the way of safety to be found in Respite but anything was better than leaving her in the pen. Had he been thinking clearly before going hunting, he would have taken her there himself. Fuck but there had to be some way out of this.

He was halfway there when his big brother fell in step with him, blue eyes weighing and measuring. "We got a problem, brother."

"I figured that out on my own," Daryl returned morosely. "Joe and his boys are trying to start shit."

Merle side eyed him and gave a terse head shake by way of reply. "I'm not talking about those douche bags, numb nuts. I'm talking about the Governor. That woman…there's gonna be trouble. You mark my words."

"I know."

Merle grunted and then out of the blue, gave a little laugh. "The mouse…Carol…she's got a plan. The asshole won't see it coming."

In spite of the bad feeling that statement gave him, Daryl managed a twisted smile. "What? She gonna stab somebody with a nail file or something?"

"Or something," Merle repeated with barely concealed humor. "She wants me to take her out and cut her loose. Seems to think she can survive on her own. Might be something to think about. You know, just to have another card to play when the time comes."

Daryl stopped and stared at his brother in disbelief. "Where is she now?" He demanded.

"Right where you told me to put her," Merle walked on, leaving Daryl no choice but to follow. "That reminds me. Blake sent word that you two will be eating with him tonight. Better get a move on, Daryl. You don't want to be late for this party."

His suspicions were confirmed as soon as he caught sight of the trio on his way back to the dining hall with Carol in tow. Lou was the first to see them, his gaze flickering back and forth in a feeble attempt to see without being seen. Look. Glance away. Look again. The damned fool might as well hold up a sign saying, "HERE I AM!'

Len's dark eyes burned with barely repressed fury. He was a man used to getting his due and when denied that, nursed a grudge to the bitter end. Daryl felt cool fingers wind around his wrist and her nails bit into tender flesh. She sidled closer until she was flush against his back and Len's mouth quirked up at her reaction. He swelled up like a tick gorged on blood and took a swaggering step in their direction. Joe, stone faced and somber, held him back and whispered urgently. Len shrugged and pulled his arm free before settling back into his usual slouch.

Daryl made a snap decision and turned Carol into a loose embrace, ignoring the way her eyes widened. "Play along," he muttered as he slid a hand around the back of her neck and into her hair line. His thumb traced idle circles along her jaw, tilting her face up to his. Her shocked gasp was swallowed up when his mouth covered hers.

It was a slow drug that oozed through her veins like cold honey and woke her up. His lips were soft and feather light on hers, teasing and tasting by turns. She angled her head, moaning as his fingers slipped through her hair and then cupped her cheek. A shy little tongue came out to play, tentative and unsure as it tagged his and then retreated. His followed, supped at the sensitive seam before darting inside. Her arms banded his waist, hands splayed on the small of his back, urging him closer. The approving sounds she made when he obliged shot straight through him.

It was Merle's mocking applause that pulled them apart but Daryl didn't go far. His hand stayed on the back of her neck and he didn't take his eyes off her. "Tell them," he ordered in a gruff undertone. "Tell em now."

To his surprise, she straightened and tilted her chin proudly. A winsome little smile tugged at the corners of her mouth and he couldn't help but notice that the right went just a bit higher than the left. "I'm yours," she raised her voice until it carried across the clearing, garnering the attention of those making their way to dinner. "Just yours." A slender blade blossomed in her hand, its edge glittering menacingly in the waning light. "Nobody touches me but you."

It was a reckless but effective display. Daryl looked up to see Phillip Blake wearing a satisfied expression. The man inclined his head regally before heading into the communal dining room with Joe and his buddies hot on his heels.

"You went through my stuff," Daryl observed softly and gestured toward the knife she held open and ready at her side. .

"Seemed like a good idea at the time," she answered wryly as she flipped the blade closed and dropped it into his outstretched palm.

"I'll get you a better one. Something that'll make em think twice. We're gonna go along until we can get the fuck out of here and then we'll start over. Okay?"

Carol nodded her agreement but inside, her stomach was in knots. "Okay," she repeated.


End file.
